She Slipped Through Their Fingers

Chapter 1

Inhaling in the fresh, crisp air of a cool Monday morning, Horatio paused to catch his breath. Staring at the sand beneath his feet while he leant forwards and positioned his hands on his thighs, he felt the beads of sweat trickle from his forehead to his eyebrows. Swiping the moisture from his brow, he stood straight and glanced back to see how far he'd ran. Admiring the horizon, he watched the ripples in the air generated by the orange, rising sun over the calm ocean. The rush of the gentle waves rolling up the sand combined with the breezy sea air transported him into his dreams. Miami had it all, the good, the bad, the beautiful and the unpleasant, it all came as a package, as he'd learnt since moving down from New York many years ago.

Taking a slow, deep breath, he reasoned that he'd run far enough to head back to his apartment for a shower to start what he knew would be a long week. What horrors does Miami have for me this week? He questioned, reminiscing about the dark, disturbing cases he'd solved the previous week.

Approaching the sidewalk that would lead him back to his place, he readied himself to turn the sharp corner and skip down the steps. To his surprise, as he turned the corner, someone else had stepped into his path. Without enough time to slow or stop, the two clashed, causing the stranger to fall backwards.

Argh! Horatio thought, shocked, as he stepped back and recovered his stumble. Looking down at the woman, he watched her sit up and rub her hands together to rid the grit and dirt from them. The serenity of the early morning horizon and calmness of the small waves lapping at the sand had instantly diminished. His muscles had tensed along with the stress quickly amounting upon him.

He listened to the quiet hiss from the woman as she continued to rub her stinging hands. Ma'am, are you OK? He questioned, afraid that she was hurt. Stupid old man; I could have seriously hurt her! He believed with guilt mounting as he held his hands out to aid her up to her feet. Taking his hands, she didn't reply, but she nodded without making eye contact while she slowly rose to her feet. Her lack of response caused Horatio's anxiety to grow, was she angry or badly hurt?

Slowly letting go of her hands, he tilted his head to the side and examined her visually. I don't think she's hurt, he mused as his eyes moved from her unkempt hair down her slender body to her worn sneakers.

I'm sorry, Ma'am, are you hurt? His sorrow began to escalate as he watched her wipe down the back of her pants before she dabbed one of her eyes with her sleeve and exhaled steadily as she shook her head. He was unsure what to make of the situation; in contrast to the feelings and tranquillity of minutes previously, he'd been thrown into a peculiar situation.

She looked towards the floor, hiding her face from him behind her long, messy hair. I'm sorry, she muttered before she stepped around the Lieutenant and began to hurry away, wiping her teary eyes with her sleeves as she went. He'd seen the tears rolling down her pale cheeks, a double dose of guilt kicked him in the side as he felt that he'd hurt her, but her eyes looked puffy and red, almost as if she'd been crying before the incident.

Confused, he turned back to her and frowned; he was curious and concerned as to why she had been crying. Can I help her? He wondered as deep within his gut, he felt as if something bleak was brewing. Usually, his worry about others in distress wouldn't climb so high; there were many reasons that would cause distress, and none were any of his business. However, something urged him to dash after her. His genuine care and consideration of others felt as if it was impossible to ignore their encounter. Within a matter of minutes, what seemed to be a pleasurable, relaxing morning had turned into work, something he needed to escape from every now and again.

Ma'am, he gently placed his hand on her shoulder once he'd caught up with her. Turning towards the Lieutenant, she took a tight hold of his forearm, and frantically looked around, hyperventilating. Noticing her swollen, red eyes, he confirmed that she had been crying prior to her fall. Something is seriously wrong here. Why's she running towards the beach when in such an emotional state? He asked himself, then looked down to her hands to observe them trembling. In fact, her whole body seemed to tremble while her grip on his arm seemed to tighten the longer they stood there for.

Placing his hand over hers, he mused, something isn't right. Ma'am, are you OK? He repeated since he'd yet to have any form of verbal communication from her. Feeling her desperation and anguish emanate from her, a dark chasm opened within his stomach. It was then when he knew for certain something sinister was occurring in Miami. Is she running from somebody? She's scared, but of what? He proposed, the list of possible causes of her distress were endless.

Listening to her snivel as her fraught blue eyes settled on him, he got a glimpse of the hopelessness she felt. She just sobbed, barely able to breathe, let alone explain. Ma'am, my name is Horatio Caine, I need you to try and calm down; I'm a Lieutenant, am I able to help you in anyway? He asked, but noticed the small spark of optimism in her expression when he explained that he was a part of the Police Force.

Please he-help me, she choked as a gust of salty wind blew past them, sending a biting chill down his spine. She gripped his arm firmly and started into his blue eyes. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he began to nod. How may I help you? He questioned, feeling as though they were getting somewhere; he'd gained her trust and she had asked for help.

Help me-, she begged as she took hold of his sweaty t-shirt with her free hand. Help you with what, Ma'am? He questioned calmly but she'd begun to sink to the ground. He slowly knelt down himself, aiding her to the floor gently, but her sobbing turned into hysterical distraught, it was clear she was in mental agony.

Thoughts of what could possibly be wrong raced through his mind; was she hurt, was she running from someone, was she looking for someone or was she having a mental breakdown? She leant against him, snivelling into his t-shirt as he placed an arm around her shoulders. He couldn't deny her of comfort, something she clearly needed, even though she was a complete stranger. OK Sweetheart, what's your name? He tried to start with simple questions, since asking what the problem was, was getting them no-where. I need you to try and calm your breathing, Sweetheart; I can't do anything to help if you're unable to answer, his voice was soft and welcoming. He listened to her try and slow her breathing, but her body remained tense. I know it's difficult, Sweetheart, try slow your breathing down, he gently rubbed her back in an effort to calm her.

A couple of minutes passed while the hysterical woman attempted to calm and collect herself while Horatio allowed her space to breathe. Once she had sufficiently calmed herself, she sat and wiped her eyes with her sleeve and looked at the Lieutenant.